


remind me i'm alive

by kaci3PO



Series: Until My Body Burns [3]
Category: The Following
Genre: Barebacking, Identity Issues, M/M, Sex Toys
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-19
Updated: 2013-04-19
Packaged: 2017-12-08 21:35:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,488
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/766278
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kaci3PO/pseuds/kaci3PO
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The box is nothing special.</p>
<p>Or: Jacob receives a box full of sex toys and finally has to deal with his identity crisis. Plus: PORN.</p>
            </blockquote>





	remind me i'm alive

The box is nothing special. It's plain and unmarked, brown cardboard with a simple label declaring it to be for Mr. Thomas. Jacob briefly wonders what the legalities are of opening his "boyfriend's" mail, and then slits the seam open with Paul's favorite knife before carrying it upstairs to their bedroom. It's for him, anyway, no matter whose name is on the box.

He's home for spring break, supposed to be catching up on grading and lesson planning, but mostly he's just lounged around and enjoyed the break all week. With Paul and Sarah both at work, there's no one around to pretend for, and just sitting around being himself for hours on end has been a treat.

He's not sure where the box factors in on that being himself thing, since he's still pretty sure it's more of a Will Wilson thing than a Jacob Wells thing, but he finds himself dialing Paul's work number before he can stop himself.

"Will?" Paul asks when he picks up. "Something wrong, babe?"

Jacob can't tell if someone is in the room with Paul or if he's just being paranoid that they might be overheard. It doesn't really matter, anyway.

He clears his throat and says as evenly as possible, "It — it came today. The stuff you ordered."

There's a pause, then Paul must cover the phone with his hand because he's much more muffled when Jacob hears him say, "Sorry, my partner. Family thing. I'll get those numbers to you this afternoon. Yeah. Sure, I'll tell him."

After a pause, Paul's voice returns to normal and he says, "Fletcher wants me to tell you he's sorry about the family thing."

"What family thing?"

"Fuck if I know," Paul says. "He doesn't care, he's just saying it because he likes you."

From the way Paul says it, Jacob can tell that he doesn't mean Fletcher just thinks he's a cool guy.

"Oh," Jacob says. After a moment, he asks, "Since when am I your 'partner?' I thought it was boyfriend."

"Since people started asking me when I was going to drive you to Massachusetts and put a ring on it. Why? Do you not want to be pretend married to me?"

"No," Jacob says quickly. "I mean. I don't mind. I'd just never heard you call me that before."

"It was either that or fiance and I don't think some of these guys are ready to hear that yet."

Jacob laughs awkwardly. "Yeah, okay."

They fall silent for a moment, then Paul prompts, "So the stuff came today?"

Jacob swallows. "Yeah. I haven't — it's still in the box. I opened it but —"

"But you wanted me on the phone with you when you started playing with your new toys? Will, I'm touched."

Jacob closes his eyes and tries to steady his breathing. "I — I just."

"Open the box, Jacob."

The use of his real name makes his breath catch in his throat, but Jacob's hands go to the flaps of the box automatically, pulling them open so that he can finally look inside. It's packed full of things he only caught glimpses of while Paul was shopping for them, things that he barely knows what to do with and is half-terrified of just looking at them. His hands are shaking when he reaches inside and picks up the first package, a plastic monstrosity he has to cut through with scissors to get to the large dildo inside. It's thicker than Paul is, and at least as long, with a big thick sac at the end to keep it from being pushed in too far.

There's a suction cup on the base and Jacob has a quick flash of imagination — himself on his knees, rocking back onto the dildo where it's stuck to the headboard, gasping for air while Paul sits at the foot of the bed slowly stroking himself and telling Jacob how hot he looks when he's all desperate and filled up with cock, and then maybe letting Jacob suck him off while being filled at the same time, and — he drops the toy, fumbling to catch it before it goes flying off the bed.

He can hear Paul's breathing heavy in his ear and he wishes Paul were there with him, telling Jacob what he'd be doing with the toys instead of letting Jacob imagine it himself. It's easier to deal with this if he pretends it's something Paul is doing and Jacob is just letting it happen. Admitting that he thinks about it, too — that he _wants_ it, even — is just too much.

"This dildo is huge," he says. "I don't know how I can take it."

"Don't worry," Paul says. "I'll get you nice and wet first. Fuck you open with my fingers until you're begging me to just fist you because your greedy little hole wants even more. It won't seem so big then."

Jacob puts the dildo down. "There's — there's a lot of plugs. Some of them aren't so bad, but you're kidding with this big one, right?"

"No," Paul says. "The little ones are to start you off small and get you used to walking around with something inside you. We'll work up to the big ones, don't worry."

Jacob picks up one that looks somewhat reasonable, and then says, "We're supposed to go to the farmer's market tomorrow with Sarah. Don't complain, we promised."

"I'm not complaining," Paul says. "Especially not now that I know the stuff came today. Do you want me to fuck you and fill you up tonight and make you sleep with the plug before we go out tomorrow? Or do you want me to fuck you in the morning?"

Jacob swallows around the lump in his throat and says nothing.

"Jacob?" Paul asks after a moment. "Jacob, I know you're still there. Jacob?" Another silence, and then he says, " _Will_ , answer me. Which do you want?"

Jacob stares down at the plug in his hand, thinks about how good it feels to have Paul inside him, and then asks, "Can you do both, Billy?"

It feels good to be the one stunning Paul into silence for a change.

***

Jacob tries to take a nap. He turns off all the lights and lays down with every intention of falling asleep, and then his brain just keeps thinking about the fact that the box is still sitting there on the other side of the bed. He didn't even go through all of it. He thinks there might've been a dildo that vibrates, because Paul definitely asked him about that the night he placed the order online.

He flicks the lamp on and rolls over on his back, staring resolutely at the ceiling and trying very hard to keep his breathing even. He can feel the box brushing against his arm and it's all he can think about, so he flicks on the TV as a distraction. Daytime TV being what it is, he finds nothing that's able to keep his mind off the box and finally he gives in, dumping the entire thing out onto his lap and sifting through the toys.

The plugs he immediately puts off to one side — he's nowhere near ready to deal with what Paul wants to do to him with those — and instead picks up one of the smaller dildos Paul ordered. He can wrap his hand all the way around it, at least, which is an encouraging sign. He hefts it in one hand, letting the cool silicone roll over his fingers as he tests its weight. It feels solid, and he can't stop thinking about how it would feel inside him. Maybe without Paul on top of him, without knowing that it's another man pressing him into the sheets, Jacob will be better able to deal with liking the way it feels.

Before he can talk himself out of it, he unearths the bottle of lube from his bedside drawer and shucks off the sweatpants and t-shirt he's been lounging in all day. He's not wearing underwear, and he'd like to tell himself that it's because he's more comfortable without it but it's mostly because Paul told him how hot it was, knowing there was just one layer of clothing between him and all the skin he wanted to touch.

He hasn't gotten very far trying this on his own. Every time he tries, he remembers that he's not actually Will Wilson and Billy Thomas isn't actually his boyfriend and fine, whatever, they've had sex a couple times but they're alone and they can't be with women so it makes sense they'd seek release in each other, but that's not the same thing as fingering himself in the shower when he knows perfectly well that he can jerk off just fine using only his dick. Somehow, fingering himself always seems like crossing the tenuous line Jacob has drawn in the sand.

He's learning, though, that he can move the line if he wants, push it further down the beach so that he doesn't have to actually cross it yet.

His fingers are cold and wet when he finally works up the nerve to press one against himself and he closes his eyes as his body shivers. His finger slips inside with little resistance and he tries not to think about how quickly he's getting used to this, how easy it's been for his body to accept that this is part of his life now. He rocks down against his finger and tries to remember the last time he was with Emma before he and Paul moved in next to Sarah. It's been so long that he barely remembers what her hands looked like on his skin; the memory of Paul's hands tracing those same paths is much more vivid in his mind. He wonders if Paul's trying to replace Jacob's memories of her on purpose, and then decides he doesn't want to know.

A second finger goes in beside the first and Jacob sighs, feeling his cock harden against his stomach. He hates that he gets hard just from this, hates that this feels so good when it doesn't have any right to. Everything would be so much easier if being fucked were half as uncomfortable as he'd always been told.

He doesn't want to wait any longer and he fumbles for the dildo before he can think better of it. He strokes down its shaft to coat it with lube and angles it against himself, letting the rocking motion of his hips help it inside.

It hurts. This hasn't hurt once with Paul, not even the first time when it probably should've because he had no idea what he was doing. He gasps out in pain and tries to push himself through it but it's too big, too fast, and he whimpers when he can't get it in and doesn't want to anymore anyway. He reaches down to pull it away when he feels a hand brush his aside.

His eyes fly open and meet Paul's, leaning over the end of the bed and staring at Jacob with wide eyes. He looks like he doesn't know if he wants to pet Jacob's hair or fuck him into the headboard, and Jacob doesn't know which of those he'd prefer, either.

"You weren't supposed to start playing until I got home," Paul says finally. "You couldn't wait?"

"I — I was going to take a nap," Jacob says weakly.

"But you accidentally rolled over on a dildo?"

"Something like that," he mumbles. "What are you doing home?"

"Told them that your call was a family emergency and you needed me to come offer moral support." He shrugs and eases two of his fingers into Jacob. Jacob opens his legs a little wider automatically and Paul grins at him. "You must've been desperate to get filled up if you only stretched yourself this much."

"I thought I could handle it."

"It shouldn't hurt," Paul says. After a moment, he adds, "Unless you're into that. It's cool if you are. I mean." He laughs. "You're in the right place if you are."

Jacob shudders. "No. No, I don't want it to hurt."

"Then let me," Paul says. "Hand me the bottle."

Jacob hands over the lube and relaxes back against the pillows as Paul slicks his fingers up and works them back inside. Jacob sighs in relief and throws one arm over his eyes so there's no chance of him looking up and seeing Paul's face. He's pretty sure Paul is looking smug as hell right now and Jacob just can't deal with it.

"Who do you think made the move the first time Will and Billy had sex?" Paul asks after the silence has stretched on too long. Jacob cracks one eye open and peeks out from under his arm, lifting an eyebrow.

"What?"

"Will was a closeted jock, wasn't he?" Paul asks. "But Billy was so smitten that he'd have been afraid to make a move or else he'd send Will running. So I wonder which of them made the first move. Someone had to give in first."

Jacob swallows. "It was college. They probably got drunk and fell into bed."

"Hmm," Paul says non-committally. He teases Jacob's rim another finger, dipping it just inside before pulling it back out again. It makes Jacob squirm and thrust back against Paul's fingers, and Paul smirks at him before he continues. "I bet Will topped that first time."

Jacob stares at him, because he's pretty sure all evidence points to quite the contrary — the two times they've had penetrative sex, Jacob has been the receiver. He's the receiver right this moment, and will be again tomorrow morning. Paul bought a boxful of sex toys on the premise that Jacob responds really well to a dick in his ass, regardless of the fact that Jacob's not exactly proud of that. As far as he knows, every sexual fantasy Paul has divulged involves him fucking Jacob or having Jacob suck his cock. The idea of Will topping, however fictional the backstory might be, is anathema to what they've established here and now.

"But —"

"I think Will Wilson couldn't get over that jock macho guy bullshit," Paul says. "No way he was giving up his ass that easily."

Jacob stares at him, then looks down between his legs pointedly before looking back up at Paul. Paul's face remains passive and that's when Jacob realizes that Paul is making a point. He looks away awkwardly and doesn't say a word.

Paul's fingers slow to a halt and Jacob lasts all of thirty seconds before he's wriggling back against them, trying to force Paul to start moving again. It doesn't work, so finally he forces himself to look up at Paul's face.

"What?"

"I'm going to fuck you now," Paul says. "And then I'm going to come inside you. You're going to get off with me finger-fucking you with my come."

Jacob swallows. "Billy —"

"No," Paul says. "You're going to get off with me finger-fucking you with my come, and when you do it, you're going to come screaming my name. Sarah's at work, Jacob. This one's for us."

Jacob stares at him for a long, hushed moment, and then rolls away, biting his lip to keep from whimpering when the move pulls Paul's fingers out of him.

"No."

There's a long silence, then Paul says, "Who were you pretending for? When I came home and found you, who was that for?"

"Fuck off."

Paul's hand is huge and warm against his shoulder and Jacob jerks away like he's been burned. All Paul had to do was shut up and fuck him and it'd have been fine.

"Jacob —"

He doesn't think about what he's doing, just throws himself at Paul, fists clenching in Paul's hair. He meant to use them to punch but that's better, that gives him more control. They stare at each other in shock and then Jacob kisses him, feeling some of Paul's hair pull right out of his scalp as Jacob tightens his fingers. Paul groans against him but he doesn't try to push Jacob off.

Paul's hands are gentle when they settle against Jacob's hips and he rocks forward, pushing his naked erection against Paul's clothed one. Paul actually whimpers and Jacob decides that he likes being the one to make Paul feel helpless for a change, to be the one drawing pathetic little noises out of the man beneath him. He fumbles only once as he undoes Paul's fly, and then pushes up off him long enough to say, "Get them off."

Paul stares at him like he's an alien but he does it, clothes hitting the floor in a heap before he sits back against the pillows, inviting Jacob to take the lead. Jacob hesitates, trying to decide if he wants to try to fuck Paul, and then realizes that even now, even when he has control of the situation, he'd still rather have Paul's cock in him than the other way around. His gut twists at the realization and he settles back on his haunches, waiting for the nausea to pass.

"Jacob —" Paul starts, and Jacob makes his decision immediately, pushing Paul down against the pillows and pressing their mouths together. He's still slick and open from their combined ministrations and it's easy to angle Paul's cock against him and thrust back against it. It burns a little, but he breathes through it and keeps his eyes open, watching Paul's face. When he settles down flush against the cradle of Paul's hips, Paul finally blinks his eyes open and takes Jacob's face in his hands.

He strokes his thumbs over Jacob's cheekbones, and Jacob doesn't want tender so he knocks Paul's hands off him and sets them on his hips.

"Don't move them," he says, and carefully lifts himself up before dropping back down. His eyes roll back in his head and he can't help it, he doesn't care anymore why this feels so good as long as it doesn't stop.

"Jacob —"

"Shut up," Jacob hisses. "Just — fucking shut up. That's not my name."

Of the two of them, Jacob is pretty sure Paul's the one further gone down the track of mental instability, but given the way Paul stares at him in honest confusion, he'd wager that Paul would dispute that fact. He looks like he can't decide if he's supposed to play along or try to snap Jacob back out of it so instead he opts to press his mouth against Jacob's neck, biting hard enough to bruise before sucking a hickey into life. Jacob imagines going to school on Monday and having to try to hide it from the kids and his co-workers — or worse, explain it — and then realizes that he mostly just likes the idea of being marked.

He slams down against Paul harder, not understanding who or what he's angry at but knowing that he can't breathe for all the rage building up inside him. He wonders what Will Wilson would do if he were here and then realizes, in a sudden moment of clarity that he hasn't had since the first time he slipped into a fictional man's skin, that he's _not_.

"It was for me," he gasps, stilling as Paul pulls away from his neck to look up at him.

"Hm?"

"I was pretending for me."

"I know," Paul says. He slides his hands further up Jacob's back to help steady him, which is good because Jacob's gone weak and he's not sure how much longer he can really be expected to hold himself up. "I know, Jacob."

Jacob stares at him, and hates the way his voice shakes when he asks, "Paul?"

Paul eases Jacob over on his back, careful not to pull out and holding onto Jacob so gently that it seems absurd.

"Shh," Paul says, and kisses him on the forehead. "It's okay, Jacob. Do you want to stop?"

Jacob searches Paul's eyes for a long moment, and then admits, "No."

Paul goes slow, rolling his hips against Jacob's, whispering Jacob's name over and over against his skin and telling him how good he feels. Jacob feels like he's going to fly apart when he finally comes, shouting Paul's name and clinging to him with everything he's got. He lets himself stay relaxed and pliant while Paul finishes inside him, doesn't even protest when Paul pulls Jacob to him after, both of them still sweaty and covered in come. Paul plays with his hair and neither of them say anything and Jacob understands exactly nothing about what his life has become other than the fact that he wants to keep living it and see where it goes.

He finally falls asleep for that nap, head pillowed on Paul's chest and the sound of his own confused brain thundering in his ears.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to everyone who keeps asking for more of this. Y'all have no idea how flattering that is. :-D


End file.
